


The Kids Aren't Alright

by InesStarkDowney



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), happy ending (ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10019765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InesStarkDowney/pseuds/InesStarkDowney
Summary: After the events of Civil War, Steve and Tony "work" things out and eventually come back to each other... multiple times. Because Steve can't seem to stay and Tony isn't enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I publish. Not the first I write, because I've been writing for years now, but... yeah. Also English is not my first language, so forgive me for my mistakes. 
> 
> Also, sorry if it's confusing. But my head when writing is confusing as hell.

Tony sat on the couch, glass of scotch in hand, the moon high on the sky and the city lights ablaze in front of him, in those big wide windows. The tower was silent, unlike the world outside and, for the first time, Tony was silent, inside and out. There was nothing to it anymore. Not until the next time. Because Steve was standing in the doorway, hands curled in fists, and a goodbye on the tip of his tongue. It wasn't the first. It wouldn't be the last.

The adrenaline ran through their bodies in different ways. Tony was immobilized, turned to stone, but cracking with each blow. Steve was moving fast and hard, desperation sweating out of his body, the tears running inside instead of outside. The shield hit the helmet, one, two, three times, smudging the red and gold, the strong facade out of Tony. Steve had to rip it off, throw it aside, just to look at those brown eyes, find the hate that he heard on his words minutes ago, find the hate to end it all. But Tony stared back, fear shining, the blood dripping and a plead, a mercy about to slip out of those perfectly shaped lips. The shield came up high, Tony's hands, with enough power to blow Steve out of top of him and end it, came up to protect himself, and in a heartbeat, Tony's heart stopped beating with the shield carved deep in the stone next to his body. Steve took Tony's armoured wrists, and holding them back to the ground above Tony, he looked at Tony. Breathless, tired, exhausted, Steve didn't want to fight anymore and Tony didn't want to lose any longer. They were done, done with it all, done with each other. So Tony closed his eyes and let Steve kiss him. Tony tasted the bitter sweetness of it, the sweat and despair. Steve tasted the hurt and anger boiling, but even more the tears that ran down Tony's cheeks. Salty and sad, both breathed in each other for Tony to open his eyes and find his lips alone and sore, to find himself alone and done.

They were back to it. Standing face to face, a chance at something, because the last few days hadn't been that bad, because forgiveness was at hand, and perhaps, forgetting wasn't that hard. But Tony knew goodbye when he saw it, and despite not being quite the same as last time, Steve looked at him with tired eyes and an apologetic smile. Tony understood. Of course he did. Things weren't that easy, and when it came to the two of them, it was even less easy. So Tony understood why Steve had to stay in Wakanda and not come home. Steve had yet to belong back there. After all, Bucky was still to stay here. Tony understood. And Steve smiled at him, so why shouldn't Tony smile back? They were alone, goodbyes were meant to be alone, one on one, no preying eyes. But they all knew, and they would know even better after Tony got back home with them. The absence of Steve's touch would linger like a scar. Nonetheless, Tony walked straight into a new fight bound to lose and let Steve's hands hold his face, his thumbs trace the perfect lines of his beard, his thumbs play with Tony's lower lip before Tony felt Steve's breath on his lips, before Tony closed his eyes to savour the feeling of home on his skin one last time. It felt like a sweet supernova, and Tony burnt. Until the next one.

Steve knew Tony would find him there, in Brooklyn, in the middle of the street, looking over the river, over to the city lights he thought he could call home again. It was harder, so much harder than it should be. And not even in the city he was born and raised did he find the peace of mind he so much needed. Brown eyes followed him everywhere, making him do this once again. He had to leave. Tony's quiet footsteps came to him, much like the quietness that Tony used to be these last months. War wounds, Steve thought. Everyone came out harmed in some way. Steve couldn't stay. Tony couldn't say it. It was okay. Or it wasn't, and the numbness was already settling in. Either way, Steve turned to look at Tony, to find him staring back already. Tony always observed him. Tony always expected something. And Steve always did it. There would never be a goodbye where Steve didn't find the last remaining bit of home in Tony's lips. This time, Steve's hands found themselves inside Tony's jacket pockets, hands intertwined, for the very first time, and bodies slightly more close than all the other times. It was cold. One last bit of warmth wouldn't harm anyone, even though it made them cry after it was gone. And Steve kissed Tony again. Steve kept on kissing, no rush, no need behind it except the pure need to feel one another. It was just for the sake of kissing. For the sake of making it last while they could. But soon Steve's lips were cold, and he was walking away. He didn't stay long enough to see the brown eyes, hoping this time, they would not follow him.

There was snow this time, everywhere, in the streets of New York. They weren't alone, as people rushed by their sides, minding their own business, not even taking a second glance at the couple standing face to face, just to recognize them. They were Steve and Tony alone. Body armour and shield left back at home, both trying, desperately, to cling on to each other as long as they could, because it was that time again. They didn't know when it would stop, both were growing tired of it, but every time it started again, the hope that it might work out, they forgot the tiredness attached to it all. Which always lead back to this: standing face to face, heartbroken, but silent, begging, but speechless. It wasn't okay anymore. It was anger. Tony was mad, hands curled in fists, tears about to rain down like a thunderstorm, cold like a stone. Steve was regretting, because seeing Tony like that made him regret the kisses. It wasn't worth it, was it? They were promises and right then, none wished to keep those promises anymore. Why come back just to leave again? This was the end. It had to be. They couldn't do it anymore. It wasn't worth it, but they could make this one, at least, worth it. So Tony marched up to Steve, pulled him down by his jacket, the smashing of lips new to them, but nevertheless, needed. Steve held on to Tony's hips, Steve held on to the biting and the roughness. Tony held on to that blond hair he always wished to run his hands through, Tony held on to those soft lips and that filthy tongue that seemed to know every little dark secret. However, as fast as it began, it also ended, and both were looking at each other, then they weren't, then it was over.

It wasn't. Proof was the hand clamped around Tony's heart, as he sat there in the dark, waiting for the kiss. He had forgotten the scotch, in his hands, so when Steve came by, took out the glass and sat down next to him, Tony didn't mind. He just waited. He just breathed in and out. And when he looked right into those azure eyes, clear and bright, Tony did his best not to stop waiting, not to stop breathing in and out.  
"Tony..."  
"Hmmm?"  
"You know, I..."  
"Yes."  
"I'm sorry."  
Tony smiled, because why wouldn't he? It was Steve. Steve was apologizing for something he was not sorry for. Steve was apologizing for something he could not help. Then Steve was closer. Steve was apologizing against his lips. Tony was forgiving him time and time again, letting himself get lost in Steve for the last time. It was the last time. It was okay.  
The kiss was sweet and long unlike their last, and by retrieving, Steve brushed his nose against Tony's. He breathed out once more:  
"I'm sorry."  
It was as if every word, every breath, every second dragged out, simply put on more weight inside of Tony. Something heavy was dropping inside of him, and together with it, the tears seemed to be coming out. Would Steve never leave?  
"It's okay. It's not like there won't be any more goodbyes. There always seem to be more."  
Tony smiled, because it was all he could do with Steve, sad or happy, Tony was bound to smile to Steve. This time, sadness pooled in those brown eyes that Steve had come to love, because, contrary to his words, Tony didn't think the same. For now, there would be a next goodbye, a next kiss, a next emotion to come with it, the same love, though. But one day, it would all stop. Tony's brown eyes would be just that, another pair of brown eyes in the street and Steve would forget that he needed to come back again just to say goodbye. Tony guessed he had to enjoy this for as long as he could, print in his mind and body every kiss, before it was too late.  
Only Tony didn't know that Steve would never stop this. It was always Tony, no matter what, and if all they could do was say goodbye again and again, that's all that Steve would do till his last day on earth.


End file.
